I’m so exhausted. Not “I’m a little tired and want to take a nap,” tired-nope, I’m crash and burn exhausted. I haven’t been in this state of mind in some time but I’m creeping out slowly from the edge of despair. As I lay awake trying to fall asleep I make the decision to get the thoughts out of my head versus rolling them around in my brain. So my blog is actually a letter to my mom…
I miss you. I miss the way you annoyed me by talking about stuff because you were uncomfortable with silence. I miss the way you would get excited for me about anything I was excited about. I miss calling you when I just want to ramble. I miss the re-regulation period I’d have to go through when the babies stayed with you. I miss the way you cared unconditionally about us.
I miss you trying to spend time with all of us even though you were so tired. I miss seeing your eyes light up and laugh when any grand-baby ran to hug you. I miss how you loved and thought of each grandchild not with you in the presence of the others that were present. But most of all…
I miss the trips we went on. I miss hearing you describe the meals you had or cooked for others. I miss hearing my girl describe how you beat her in a recent game of scene-it. I miss the boy asking me why he was so special to you. I miss you being mad at people who hurt any of your babies or the littles. I miss how you’d tell me you found a Christmas present for someone or that you found a craft idea to make someone something for their special days.
I miss being able to have a place to allow my kids to stay while I had respite. I know that may sound so awful to some. But hear me out. If you had someone that had similar beliefs, redirections styles, and loved your kids almost as much as you and wanted them as often as they could physically stand it, plus they knew it helped with their own child who is a single parent have a break…
Yes. You would. Because kids are hard. My mom created a great balance for being able to have all of the kids at once white a bit. She had grand kids all the time she could and even when she was too tired she could hardly tell them no, so parents would have to be the heavy hand and say “no.”
But today. Actually in the middle of the night right now-I could use a respite of my momma. But honestly, if she was here I would just visit with her and talk about what heaven is like and just catch up. I know id be so happy for her and forget about my own woes. She’d fill me in on others who were able to join her due to their own Covid/non Covid battles. And, I would hug her. I would hug the absolute shit out of her. I would remember the feeling of that hug and how tight she always hugged and she would always say, “mommy loves you bunches and bunches, to infinity and beyond.”
Just on a side note. Overall my life is really the best it’s ever been. Even though we miss our family and friends-my babes are flourishing and growing-they’re genuinely happy. My job is great and my human is the absolute best. We have a balance of work and home and have got lots of love from back home. But grief takes time to work through. It’s not something money, time, or family allows to work through any faster. It takes the journey. This is my journey. This is where my grief is.
I love you mom. Bunches and bunches, to infinity and beyond, love Kissy
Whiskey Momma 